


Please Stop Talking

by JoseyxNeko



Series: Ineffable Idiots (Bureaucracy and Husbands) [4]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Comedy, Conversations, Dialogue Heavy, Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), Disobedient Bentley, Double Dating, Gabriel likes to talk, Gabriel please stop talking, Humor, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Inspired by Fanart, M/M, No sex is written though, Only selected Teens and up because of a mention of sex, Or at least one scene is, Other, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), POV Beelzebub (Good Omens), POV Crowley (Good Omens), POV Gabriel (Good Omens), POV Multiple, Pick-Up Lines, Pretty sure it rates as General Audiences, Some Fluff, Story kept getting in the way of jokes I'm sorry, Swearing, What do humans do on dates? Does anyone know?, You get a POV and you get a POV, date crashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 06:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20810339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoseyxNeko/pseuds/JoseyxNeko
Summary: "What do humans do on dates? We have no idea." Gabriel asked quickly, panicked.Aziraphale looked taken aback, and looked to Crowley for guidance.Crowley was still processing his former boss being pressed into the Archangel’s side. The same Archangel who thought telling a woman she was pregnant with gods child whilst she was on the toilet was appropriate."Why- why do you need to know?" Aziraphale asked diplomatically, when he realised he wasn’t going to get any help from Crowley."Because we want to do that. Go on dates like humans. It’s become sort of a hobby."Aziraphale and Crowley's specially planned date is imposed upon by Gabriel and Beelzebub, who want to know what humans do on dates. They allow them to join them on theirs, to find out. It goes about as well as can be expected.This is a sequel toWill Too Much Love Kill You?. It is referenced once, but it isn't strictly necessary to read it to read this one.





	Please Stop Talking

**Author's Note:**

> 8000 words ::stares into the void::
> 
> At least I didn't have a gajillion footnotes to format this time.
> 
> The fanart that inspired a scene in this is linked at the end, to avoid spoilers :) <3
> 
> Please enjoy and laugh!

Today was the day.

The weather was perfect, the leaves had turned all kinds of Autumnal colours, and the air in London was damn-near breathable for the first time in months.

Crowley and Aziraphale had decided to pay the ducks in St James’ a visit, and were feeding them a selection of corn, lettuce, peas and oats.

Crowley had been the one to spread the knowledge that bread was bad for ducks. Although it was true, they hated him for it. And he revelled in it.

Aziraphale had felt so guilty when he’d learned how bad his feeding habits had been for the ducks, that he placed a charm on St. James’ park that meant no crumbs would ever fall to the floor to fall victim of those peckish beaks. Messy eaters visiting the park rejoiced.

Aziraphale finished throwing the spoils to the fowl, and turned, taking Crowley's hand in his. He gave that breathtaking smile that was almost too bright to look at, and eyed Crowley’s lips shyly.

Well. Anything for his Angel, eh?

Crowley leaned down towards him, closing that three inch height difference, when something felt wrong.

He stood up suddenly, looking around them, crowding his Angel protectively.

"We're being watched."

Aziraphale looked panicked, but a little doubtful. "You're sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Crowley hissed, "No one has been watching us since the Nahpocalypse™. There is definitely someone watching us now. I can feel it."

“So soon?” Aziraphale’s disappointment was palpable.

Crowley circled him. He couldn’t see anyone.

"What should we do?" Aziraphale asked worriedly.

"Just act normal. And be ready to switch corporations again, in case they try taking us.” He grasped his Angel’s hand, holding him close to him. “Let’s sit down for now."

"Of course, let's just-"

They’d turned to face their usual bench, which was occupied. It had never been occupied once since its first installation, not whilst Crowley and Aziraphale were in the park grounds anyhow. Invisible forces kept humans from even noticing the empty bench was there. These occupants weren't human though.

"Ga-" Aziraphale choked, approaching the seated figures.

"Llllll- Llllloo" Was all Crowley could manage, trying to get his suddenly forked tongue to work.

The grip on each other’s hands tightened, ready to bolt if needed.

It felt like a showdown in a Western movie. Who was going to move first? Crowley hated Westerns. They reminded him of dysentery. Fucking Pestilence.

To absolutely no one’s surprise; Gabriel spoke first. Fucking Gabriel.

"Aziraphale!" He said merrily, and then with a bit more difficulty, he forced out between gritted teeth, "Demon Crowley.[1] Having a nice day in the park?"

Beelzebub notably wasn't speaking. Crowley couldn’t remember a time when he’d seen the Demon Prince surrounded by so much green. Their flies seemed to be in overdrive today, buzzing around their head at lightning speed, as if they were focusing intently. They were also pressed into Gabriel's side, who didn't seem to mind the flies at all.

Crowley was still processing that when Aziraphale spoke.

"Lord Beelzebub," he addressed them politely with a slight bow, and then he turned to the Archangel, "What do you want Gabriel?"

Gabriel’s bravado looked paper thin. "Isn't it obvious?" His smile seemed forced.

“Funnily enough, no.” Aziraphale gave him a hard stare.

"Told you." Beelzebub muttered under their breath. They looked truly miserable.

Crowley liked that.

Gabriel looked at the Demon Prince by his side, before turning back to Aziraphale, having wrapped an arm around their shoulders. "We're on a date!" Gabriel said, overjoyed. Beelzebub turned and bit his hand hard, and he quickly removed it, shaking the pain off nonchalantly.

The glasses on Crowley's face fell to rest on the tip on his nose.

"You _what_?" Was all he managed to say.

"You can't be on a date. We're on a date." Aziraphale argued haughtily.

That wasn’t really the issue, _surely_?

"Multiple people can be on dates at the same time, Aziraphale." Gabriel rolled his eyes. "And _you're _meant to be the human expert, pfft."

"I'm well aware of the courting rituals of human beings, Gabriel. I meant; why are you here?"

"Angels talk too much." Beelzebub mumbled quietly.

"Yesss. They dooo!" Crowley hissed, agreeing with his former boss.

The Angels shot them both disapproving looks.

"The park looked nice. You two seemed to enjoy it in the Earth Surveillance photographs. We thought we'd give it a try." Gabriel tried, but seemed completely unsure of what he was saying.

Aziraphale noticed. "Gabriel." He said demandingly.

Gabriel looked at Beelzebub again, who looked like they really rather wouldn't be here. He seemed to deliberate for a moment, before finally giving in.

"What do humans do on dates? We have no idea." He asked quickly, panicked.

Aziraphale looked taken aback, and looked to Crowley for guidance.

Crowley was still processing his former boss being pressed into the Archangel’s side. The same Archangel who thought telling a woman she was pregnant with gods child whilst she was on the toilet was appropriate.

"Why- why do you need to know?" Aziraphale asked diplomatically, when he realised he wasn’t going to get any help from Crowley.

"Because we want to do that. Go on dates like humans. It’s become sort of a hobby," Gabriel's ears turned pink at a private thought, and Crowley made the decision to never need see THAT again, "since we've nothing to prepare for now what with the Don'tpocalypse and all."

Crowley broke.

"The **_WHAT_**?" He wheezed.

"Don'tpocalypse." Gabriel repeated smugly. "Smart, I know. I was thinking of getting it trademarked-"

"That doesn't even make sense! That doesn't even sound like Apocalypse." Crowley raged.

"Crowley. Pick your battles." Aziraphale warned with a pat to his hand.

"Why? What do you call it?" Gabriel antagonised with a sneer.

"The Nahpocalypse™. Obviously." Crowley hissed.

Gabriel’s and Beelzebub’s heads whipped round to look at each other at the same time.

"Damn. That is better." Gabriel grumbled.

"Better than what I had." Beelzebub conferred.

"I do believe the matter is getting out of hand!" Aziraphale said loudly, with all the authority of the Guardian of the Eastern Gate.

The three of them went silent and turned to him. Crowley felt like he’d just had a telling off.

"This is ruining a perfectly good day, so if you'll excuse us!" Aziraphale seemed at his wits end. He tugged Crowley along and started to leave the park.

"Please help us!" Gabriel called out to them, desperately. “We’ve no one else to turn to.”

Aziraphale stopped. He's not one to not answer a plea for help.

Now Crowley's brain was fully functional, he turned to hiss at the Archangel.

"_You tried to kill him_." He seethed, filled with hate.

"I was upset!" Gabriel responded like it was the most rational reaction in the world.

"You didn't even give him a trial. You just opted for straight up _murder_! Even _Hell_ gave _me_ a trial, as unfair as it was." Crowley felt like he was in full snake-mode.

"You didn't trial the traitor?" Beelzebub asked, looking up at Gabriel. Crowley could be mistaken, but it looked like they had..._admiration_ in their eyes??

"Hm? No, I didn't.” Gabriel looked down at them, and smirked. “You like that, huh?"

"Evil." Beelzebub said, eyeing Gabriel's mouth with apparently zero interest.

"You would know-" Gabriel cooed. _Cooed!_

"Oh my go- sat- SOMEONE, they're _flirting_. I'm going to be sick." Crowley slapped a hand over his mouth and stomach dramatically.

"You've never been sick before, Crowley." Aziraphale sounded more chastising than concerned.

"_Now is a bloody good time to start_! Let's go, Angel." Crowley hissed again, pulling at Aziraphale's hand.

"Wait." Aziraphale said, unmoving.

"Aziraphale, come on!" Crowley tugged futilely.

"Gabriel," he began sternly, and then added more courteously, "Lord Beelzebub. If we help you with this, will Heaven and Hell leave us alone? Forever? For _eternity_?"

Gabriel and Beelzebub looked at each other, nodded, then turned back to Aziraphale and nodded again.

"I'm going to need that in writing." He said primly.

"Aziraphale..." Crowley began.

"I know, darling. I'm sorry. But if we can get a binding promise from them that we'll be left alone, then we'll truly be free. This does ruin the plans I had for the rest of the day, but that can wait. I've waited 6000 years already. What's one more day?" Aziraphale smiled a little disappointed.

Crowley sighed "I had plans too. But you're right. Let's get this over and done with, so we can spend the rest of our lives together."

Aziraphale smiled at him, and pulled him in for a chaste kiss.

"Get a room!" Obviously Gabriel yelled.

They turned to glare at him, catching him making a faux innocent look.

\--

“Right. So. How’re we going to do this?” Crowley asked, walking towards the Bentley, Aziraphale in hand, being followed by their former superiors.

He turned back to look at them. Gabriel looked like he was trying harder to loom than usual, taking a protective stance over the Demon Prince. In the ether, it looked like his stupid fancy wings were wrapped around them. He was constantly whispering something to Beelzebub, whose face was as stoic as ever.

“Well,” Aziraphale began, “we have our lunch reservation at the Ritz to keep. They can join us.”

“You want Mr Gross-Matter, and the Lord of the Flies, to sit through a meal at the Ritz?!” Crowley asked mortified at the thought.

“Oh they’ll behave.” Aziraphale assured him. “So long as Gabriel doesn’t start making that insulting patronising face then we’ll be fine.” But he didn’t sound so sure himself.

“And the bugs?? We’ll get banned from the Ritz for life! Well. Fifty years at the very least.” Crowley whined.

Aziraphale gave a small smile. “Fifty years is hardly life, my dear. I’m sure Lord Beelzebub can leave their flies at the door, if we ask nicely.”

“_Nicely? Nicely?!_ Aziraphale, why are you so polite to Beelzebub? They’re a Demon!” Crowley hissed.

“Crowley, my dear, they’re Royalty. I have standards.” Aziraphale rolled his eyes and huffed.

Crowley stopped in shock. He watched Aziraphale carry on, and he was caught up to by the unlikely pair trailing them. He overheard a bit of their one-sided conversation.

“...now I know we might go places you’re not used to. I won’t be used to them either. But let’s try not to be a sourpuss-...” Gabriel was murmuring.

Beelzebub’s arm shot out, and pinched the skin on the back of Gabriel’s hand. He yelped, rubbed his hand sorely, then continued talking too quietly for Crowley to hear. He sauntered after them.

Aziraphale was stood by the Bentley, waiting patiently.

“No tickets?” Crowley asked, curiously.

“The traffic warden surveying the car had a defective notebook. Spontaneously combusted in his hands, poof, just like that.” Aziraphale answered, making an exploding action with his hands.

“I thought they went back to pen and paper, after the last electronic one mysteriously blew up. Health and safety, and all that.” Crowley said curiously.

“They have.” Aziraphale said with a mischievous grin.

Crowley smiled widely, and absentmindedly pressed his hand against the breast pocket of his jacket.

_Good. Still there._

He stretched out to open the door of the Bentley, but it wouldn’t budge. He looked at it confused. It had never not opened for him before. He snapped his fingers and tried again. Still nothing.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, Gabriel and Beelzebub coming to stand near them now that their private conversation was over.

“Nggh, something wrong with the car. Is this mine?” He turned and asked his Angel, who rolled his eyes, and tried the handle for himself. Still nothing.

“How many other Bentley’s are there like this in London?” Aziraphale tsked.

“Performance issues?” Gabriel asked, cheerfully.

Crowley just shot him a look.

“Your automobile is disobedient.” Beelzebub chimed in.

“_Runsss in the family_.” Crowley hissed at them, agitated, pulling at the door handle with all his might. “Please open. _Please_. I just want to get today over with, so I can get on with my life!”

Aziraphale sighed, and patted Crowley on the back. He leaned down to whisper to the car. “You don’t want these bad people to ride inside you, do you? We don’t want that either. But if you let them, and us, in, then we’ll never have to see them again. Be a dear and open your doors for us please?”

The Bentley resisted for another couple of seconds, and then both its doors flew open, Crowley falling onto the floor. Beelzebub and Gabriel sniggered.

Crowley got up, brushed himself off, and glared at his car. “We are going to have _words_.” He growled.

Beelzebub and Gabriel slid into the backseat, Crowley and Aziraphale slid into the front, and they were off.

“Where are we going?” Gabriel asked enthusiastically, leaning forward between the passenger and driver seats.

Crowley’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. _Keep calm. It’s only one day._

“Lunch.” Aziraphale said without turning. He was griping his seat, as per usual.

“Lunch?” Gabriel’s face contorted like he’d just tasted something bitter. “As in, food? We’re going to have to watch you consume _gross matter_?”

Crowley gave Aziraphale an ‘I told you so’ look, and Aziraphale rolled his eyes. His eye muscles were really getting a workout today!

“You can just get a coffee, if you’re not interested.” Aziraphale suggested. “This was next on our agenda for _our_ date today. It’ll just be easier to have you join us, and we can show you what a human date is like.” He explained.

“Oh. So a double date.” Gabriel sat back in his seat.

“This is _not_ a double date!” Hissed Crowley. He turned the radio console on, a disc already playing.

_~ _♫_ ‘Is this the real life?_

_Is this just fantasy?’ _♫ _~_

“I don’t know!” Crowley whined at the song, banging his head against his steering wheel. “I can’t cope with this when I’m not drunk. Bentley, play ‘I want to break free’.”

The car obliged, happy to finally have a song request, instead of always guessing which song was appropriate to the mood. The track switched over, an electronic keyboard signalling the start of the new song.

Crowley further tightened his grip on the steering wheel, increasing the vehicles speed incrementally.

For once, Aziraphale didn’t complain. He wanted to get out of the car just as badly as Crowley did.

\--

Gabriel noted that the Demon Crowley really liked the noise coming out of his mode of transport. He made it so loud; he could barely hear himself think.

Beelzebub didn’t seem to mind. They sat there, watching London whiz by at an ungodly speed, the flies calm, and sitting in a relaxed posture.

It made him smile.

He rested his hand down between them in the seats, allowing his little finger to brush up against Beelzebub’s hand. Beelzebub noticed, turned to look at him, grabbing his hand and crushing it painfully, before releasing it and holding it more gently. They turned to look out the window, resting their chin against their free hand.

Gabriel felt his love blossom.

“Crow- Cr- Crowley! Turn it down for a bit. Let me- I need to speak!” Aziraphale was trying to touch a dial on the glowing contraption in the front of the vehicle, but the Demon Crowley kept slapping his hand away. Finally, the demon sighed and made the noise quieter.

“Thank you, my dear.” Aziraphale began, before turning round to face the back seats. “Knock it off back there!”

Beelzebub snatched their hand away, and glowered minutely at the Angel. Gabriel felt the loss of their hand, flexing his own. The glowing sensation in his chest ebbed.

“Do you have any idea how- how- _overwhelming_ you are?” Aziraphale continued. “Gabriel, you’re radiating love like a- a- nuclear reactor. It’s very distracting!”

Gabriel looked to Beelzebub. They just shrugged at him.

“Is- is it really?” He asked.

“There isn’t enough alcohol in the world to get me through this.” The Demon Crowley slapped a hand down his face, which seemed very unwise as Gabriel was pretty sure the Demon needed to see where he was guiding the vehicle.

The noise from the glowing contraption changed.

_~ _♫_ ‘I'm going slightly mad_

_I'm going slightly mad_

_It finally happened, happened_

_It finally happened, ooh woh_

_It finally happened, I'm slightly mad?’ _♫ _~_

“I've seen them disembowel a low ranking Demon for shortening their name to ‘Bub’, and they're now canoodling in the back seat of my car with an Archangel.” The Demon Crowley was muttering to himself in disbelief.

“Look, it’s ok. We’re here now, darling. Let’s get some good champagne in you.” Aziraphale patted the Demon’s hand on the guidance wheel, and the vehicle’s vibrating stopped.

Aziraphale got out of the car, and moved his seat forward for Beelzebub, offering his hand to them.

Gabriel didn’t like that.

“Lord Beelzebub,” he smiled at them. He didn’t like that either.

Beelzebub got out of the vehicle without touching the Angel, much to Gabriel’s relief.

Crowley just closed his door without looking back. Gabriel ground his teeth, and slid across the car to follow Beelzebub. Aziraphale seemed unsurprised.

Right in front of them was a building with a glitzy sign made out of lights, reading; The Ritz.

As they approached the building, Aziraphale turned to Beelzebub.

“Lord Beelzebub. Would it suit you to, uh, possibly leave your companions outside whilst we dine? This is a fine dining establishment, and they might not take kindly to them joining us.” He said, the most polite Gabriel had ever heard him. He was doing that annoying thing again where he wrings his hands.

Beelzebub looked up at Gabriel, back to Aziraphale, and then into the building. They set their jaw, and waved their hand around their head. The flies dissipated.

“Will you be ok?” Gabriel leaned in and asked quietly.

Beelzebub responded by pushing his entire face back with their palm, and marched into the building.

It was very shiny inside. It reminded Gabriel of Heaven, if Heaven was filled with dining tables, chairs, and the smell of..._food_. His nose wrinkled.

The Demon Crowley walked, if you could call it walking, up to a male presenting human stood behind a screen. The human eyed Gabriel and Beelzebub questioningly.

“Our reservation has been increased to four people.” The Demon said to the human casually.

The human squinted at the screen, and then back to Crowley. “It says here it was a special reserv-” The human began, but was cut off by the Demon covering the screen with his hand.

“Our plans have changed. A table for four, please, maître d'.” His hand on the screen contained a piece of paper, which Gabriel recognised as the currency used by the humans of this isle.

Gabriel saw no need for currency. He just miracled his bills away.

“Of course, Mr Crowley.” The human said, before looking at Gabriel and Beelzebub a second time. “Um...Mr Crowley, Mr Fell, your companions...”

Aziraphale turned to look at them, and then back to the _maître d'_. “...Yes?”

“The gentleman is well suited, but, uh...” The human seemed to be having trouble trying to say what it was he wanted to say. “His lady friend...their attire....”

Beelzebub buzzed quietly, as if under their breath.

Gabriel got the feeling that this human was insulting his Beelzebub. He marched right up to the human, looked him straight in the eye, and said “Their attire is fine.”

The human blinked a couple of times, before saying with an absentminded smile, “Their attire is fine.”

Aziraphale tutted, and Beelzebub glared at Gabriel. He knew what they wanted to say, even if they weren’t going to say it.

“You’re perfect as you are. You don’t need to change.” Gabriel said unreservedly.

The Demon Crowley groaned, grabbed the human by the arm, and started guiding him towards a dining table.

Gabriel was vaguely aware that it was meant to be the other way around, but he was busy looking at Beelzebub, who was staring back at him. It was a wordless exchange, drawing him in. He took a step closer to them, when;

“Ahem!” Aziraphale cleared this throat, pulling them out of their reverie. “Our table is ready. Shall we?”

They blinked at each other, and turned towards the stuffy Angel, who led them to follow the Demon Crowley and the human to the back of the room.

The Demon had already collapsed himself down into one of the chairs, his limbs sprawling out at all angles. Beelzebub did the same, letting their knees spread wide apart.

Must be a _Demon_ thing.

Aziraphale and Gabriel sat down in their seats at the same time, sitting upright and respectable.

Like _Angels._

There were tall slim books on the table in front of them. Gabriel picked one up and squinted at it.

‘Menu’ it said.

He opened it up and read through it. He could read the words, but they just didn’t make any sense to him. He was sure it was all gross matter anyway, which he would not be partaking in. He placed the menu back down.

Beelzebub was reading through their menu as well, giving it thoughtful consideration, before deciding “Whatever costs the most.”

“Yes, Lord Beelzebub.” The Demon Crowley replied automatically. He was well trained, at least.

Aziraphale looked at his menu diligently, then over to Crowley, and back to his menu again. He closed it, apparently satisfied.

“The usual, Angel?” The Demon Crowley looked at him over his glasses.

“The usual.” He beamed back at him.

“How’re you doing it?” Gabriel asked suddenly.

“Doing what?” Aziraphale looked confused, laying his menu onto the table flat.

“Keeping all your love concealed.” Gabriel waved his hand towards Aziraphale’s corporation. “Your face clearly shows how in love you are, but I can’t _feel_ it.”

Aziraphale blushed, and the Demon Crowley lifted his menu to cover his face.

“Oh, well. I- I dare say that I have some practice?” Aziraphale stammered, unhelpfully.

“Elaborate.” Gabriel demanded.

Aziraphale balked at him, “I don’t see what that has to do with you learning about human dating.”

Gabriel went to say something, but Beelzebub spoke up instead.

“Tell him.” They said.

The Demon Crowley put his menu down, and shifted minutely to create a barrier between Beelzebub and Aziraphale. His hackles went up. Aziraphale placed a hand upon his on the table. He cleared his throat.

“It really is a private matter, so I’d prefer not to share it, if it’s all the same to you.”

“You felt his lo- lov-” Beelzebub struggled to say the word, “his glow. Think of how that feels to a Demon.”

Gabriel looked at them. He hadn’t even considered that. Neither had Aziraphale, it would seem.

“Oh.” He said, turning to look at Crowley. Their hands on the table squeezed together.

The Demon looked at him from behind his glasses. “It’s like touching the sun.”

Aziraphale’s face did a complicated display of emotions; shock, warmth, confusion, then realisation, followed by concern.

“It burns you?” He asked quietly.

“Like a bitch.” Beelzebub said.

The Demon Crowley made a few non-committal noises, before adding “Uh, ngh, it’s not that bad, once you get used to it.”

A small smile played on Aziraphale’s lips, and Gabriel couldn’t help but feel a private joke had been shared between them.

“It’s not like actual pain. It’s like the suggestion of pain. It’s so bright it could hurt.” Crowley continued. “It’s _alarming_.”

“So_ tell him_.” Beelzebub said again, impatient.

Crowley sat up straighter in his chair, angling his body toward Beelzebub. He really didn’t seem to like Aziraphale being spoken to in such disregard.

Aziraphale stroked his hand again, calming him. He turned to face Gabriel. “It’s really all about being aware of the- the _glow_, and keeping it under control inside you.”

Gabriel made a face. “What? Like suppressing it?”

“Yes!” Aziraphale said. “Exactly that.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Why would I want to suppress my love for Beelzebub? I love loving them. I’m happy to love them.”

“I’m only answering your question, Gabriel. That’s how I’ve done it for-” he cut himself off. “That’s how I’ve done it.”

“Doesn’t seem all that healthy.” Gabriel grumbled.

“When have you ever cared about my health?” Aziraphale said rhetorically.

Gabriel didn’t do rhetoric.

“I’ve cared about your health. I told you to lose weight that time.”

“You **_WHAT?!_**” The Demon Crowley roared, standing up so suddenly he knocked his chair over. He lunged across the table, shattering glasses, knocking over flowers, and grabbed Gabriel by his suit jacket.

There was a sabre at his throat before he could say another word, and Aziraphale had stood up, one of his hands raised and glowing.

The humans in the vicinity in the dining room got on with their meals as if nothing had happened. Gabriel couldn’t be sure who, but someone was using a diversion miracle.

He was completely unperturbed. Aside from the smiting it seemed like Aziraphale was preparing.

Beelzebub twisted the blade, so that the sharp edge was microns away from Crowley’s flesh. Aziraphale raised his hand higher.

“Why don’t we order our meal?” Gabriel suggested. “Beelz, put away your sword. Aziraphale, lay your hands down. Demon Crowley, get off the table. We’re in a restaurant, for Heaven’s sake.”

Crowley growled. “I can do it. I can kill him Aziraphale. Just give the word, and I’ll do it.”

“You won’t.” The Angel and the Prince of Hell said at the same time.

Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale, his neck not touching the blade, only due to Beelzebub’s mercy. “He’s a _bastard_. He tried to kill you. He insulted you. _Let me kill him._”

“I am _aware_.” Aziraphale huffed. “I was _there_.” He gave the Demon a loaded look. The more he stared at him, the less tense Crowley’s grip was on Gabriel’s clothes.

As quickly as it had all started, it ended. The Demon Crowley snapped his fingers; the table righted itself, all the crystal wear restored, flowers upright, and the Demon was sat in his chair once again.

Beelzebub’s sabre was safely stored away...somewhere. Aziraphale was sat down, hands no longer glowing.

Gabriel smoothed out his jacket.

It was silent for a few minutes.

The server made his way over with a bottle of champagne, and asked for everyone’s orders. The Demon Crowley ordered for everyone, saying a complicated collection of words Gabriel was sure had made sense to someone.

“And drinks?” The server asked expectantly at Gabriel and Beelzebub.

“Coffee.” They replied simultaneously.

“And a few more of these.” Crowley lifted the champagne bottle from a bucket of ice, and then drank straight from it. The server didn’t seem to mind, and went on his way.

“I really was concerned for your health-” Gabriel began, but Aziraphale lifted his hand to silence him. He took a long sip of his champagne. Very long. He finished the whole glass in one go. Crowley refilled it for him.

“I believe you _believe_ your intentions were noble, Gabriel. However, I quite like my corporation as it is. I won’t be changing it any time soon.” Aziraphale said with finality.

Gabriel just nodded.

“You’ll miss it when it’s not there, after a while.” The Demon Crowley said quietly.

“What?” Gabriel said.

Crowley leaned over towards Beelzebub. “The glow. Maybe you’ll come to like it, in about, oh, eighty years, give or take.”

Aziraphale gasped. “Oh Crowley, you knew?”

Crowley smirked. “Consecrated ground wasn’t the only thing burning me that night, Angel. It was like being trapped in a sun bed, sharing that car journey with you.

Aziraphale was blushing.

Gabriel was fed up of all these knowing looks, and stories he wasn’t a part of.

“Human dating.” Beelzebub said, before Gabriel had the chance to broach the subject.

Their coffees arrived, and the extra bottles of Champagne. The Demon Crowley kept a private ice bucket next to himself.

“Oh, yes, of course. Well, where to begin...” Aziraphale looked at Crowley, before his face brightened. “Humans often use pick up lines to begin dating. You might already be past that, but it could set the mood?”

“Hell invented pick up lines.” Crowley drawled, swinging his glass loosely in his fingers.

“Really?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow and looked at Beelzebub.

Crowley gestured at the prince to go ahead.

“Do you have a little Demon in you?” Beelzebub asked, looking bored.

“No. Of course not.” Gabriel scoffed, and apprehensively sipped his drink.

“Would you like one?” Beelzebub asked again.

Gabriel choked on his coffee, spluttering it up onto the table, wheezing.

Crowley seemed completely unbothered by this, whilst Aziraphale just played with his napkin nervously.

Gabriel’s corporation didn’t even need oxygen. Why was he struggling so much to breathe? Was it the coffee, or the line? He guessed he’d never know.

He snapped his fingers, and cleaned up the coffee stains he’d caused. He looked at Beelzebub who had the tiniest of amused smirks pulling up the corner of their mouth.

At least they were happy. That made Gabriel happy.

He felt the glow grow inside him again, and he quickly concentrated on keeping it boxed in.

_Don’t let it seep out. It hurts them._

The glow stopped expanding, and held its shape within his chest.

_He did it!_

He looked at Beelzebub and smiled. Their little smirked was gone, and they no longer looked happy. It’s not what he was expecting. He turned to look at Aziraphale.

“Ok. What else? Human dating.” He said.

“Oh, well, there’s this; going for meals.” Aziraphale answered, Gabriel scrunching up his nose. Aziraphale continued anyway. “Going to shows. Long walks. Oh, some humans go dancing on dates!” He seemed very excited by that suggestion.

Gabriel was not. “Angels don’t dance.”

“Lord Beelzebub is very good at dancing.” Crowley was on his second bottle of champagne now, and just adding to the conversation as he saw fit.

Gabriel gave Beelzebub a curious look.

“I ‘break dance’.” They said. He made an ‘oh?’ face, but he didn’t really know what that was. “I dance around breaking things.”

“The Prince of Hell, ladies and gentlemen, and- and everything in-between. ....and none of the above.” The Demon Crowley hiccupped, and drank some more.

“I don’t think dancing would be a very good idea.” Gabriel looked uncomfortable. He’d never even tried dancing before.

“You could dance ‘the robot’?” Crowley suggested.

Gabriel didn’t even know what that was. He gave _that__™_ look, and Aziraphale rolled his eyes and tipped back another glass of champagne.

“I’ve been meaning to ask; why are you trying human dating again?” said the Angel.

“We’re doing human things as hobbies.” Gabriel said brightly.

“It’s that, or try to destroy the world.” Beelzebub added deadpan.

The Demon Crowley didn’t seem to care enough to comment at this point. He refilled Aziraphale’s glass.

Aziraphale swallowed, and asked before taking another sip of his drink. “Oh...ok. And what have you been doing since your liaisons on Earth began?”

The Demon Crowley turned to look at Aziraphale in disbelief at the question, as Beelzebub decided to answer:

“Fucking.”

Aziraphale spat his Champagne out across the table, coughing violently. The Demon Crowley groaned in anguish, muttering something about needing bleach for his brain; whatever _that_ was.

Even Gabriel gave a little blush.

Beelzebub seemed amused at the reactions.

“Oh good lord.” Aziraphale coughed some more, then snapped his fingers, cleaning up the champagne mess.

“Why are we doing this, Angel?” Crowley asked, head in his hands.

“The chance of freedom? At this point I can barely remember- Oh, look! Our food is here.” Aziraphale dabbed at his mouth with his napkin, his face brightening as the servers arrived with their order.

There were a number of dishes placed on the table, all containing small amounts of..._food_. Gabriel ensured none were placed near him. He didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

A plate of..._something_...was placed in front of Beelzebub, who eyed it curiously.

“You’ve eaten stuff like this before?” He asked them tentatively.

“Sometimes.” They answered, stabbing a large chunk of it with their fork, lifting it to their mouth, and taking a bite out of it. Gabriel tried not to cringe.

He looked over to the Demon Crowley, who was sat resting his head on one hand, staring intently at Aziraphale, who was making a number of noises Gabriel had recognised himself making whilst Beelzebub had their way with him. Crowley also wasn’t eating anything.

Huh. Maybe he had something in common with the Demon after all.

“How is it?” Gabriel asked the Demon Prince.

“Palatable.” They replied, taking bites of the large piece of gross matter on their fork.

Gabriel looked at the shiny utensils on the table. “I think you’re meant to use this knife to cut the food into smaller pieces.” He said, a little unsure.

Beelzebub finished the food on their fork, and stabbed another large piece, bringing it to their mouth. “This way is better.”

Gabriel made a noise of understanding, and resumed sipping his miraculously refilling coffee.[2]

Aziraphale worked his way through the dishes on the table, offering some to Beelzebub every now and then, who devoured everything that was in their path.

Oh. Right. _Gluttony._

The empty plates were taken away, and more were placed on the table containing sweeter things. Aziraphale and Beelzebub were eyeing them up hungrily. The Angel tentatively pulled a few dishes towards himself whilst Beelzebub waited. He gave them a nod, and they pulled the rest towards themself, eating some of the matter with their hands, having long given up on utensils.

Gabriel felt a diversion miracle being used again, to avert the concern of the restaurant staff. It could’ve even have come from him.

With the gross matter all consumed, and the Demon Crowley now four bottles of Champagne deep, he waved a hand in the air, holding a flat piece of black plastic.

“Bill.” He slurred.

A human brought over an electronic device, and slid the plastic into it. The Demon waved his hand towards the machine, which produced a small slip of paper, and the human returned his plastic to him.

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows at him.

“Too drunk to remember my pin.” The Demon Crowley mumbled.

“Then sober up, my dear. Let’s walk our meal off in Berkley Square.”

\--

Crowley had begrudgingly sobered up, and the gang were walking the pavements towards Berkley Square.

_The gang._ Like they wanted to be in each other’s company or something.

_Why had he sobered up??_

Each time they stopped to cross the street; Crowley noticed that Beelzebub, their flies now returned, had positioned themself in between him and Gabriel. He thought it was a coincidence at first, so on the next Red Man, he purposely angled towards the Archangel, only to have Beelzebub squeeze in between them.

Definitely not a coincidence then.

As they crossed the road, Crowley hung back to walk beside them. Coincidentally, Gabriel seemed to take this opportunity to catch up to Aziraphale for a chat. That made Crowley grumble, but he knew the Angel could take care of himself. And if not, he only had to say the word.

He leaned down to talk quietly in the Prince of Hell’s ear.

“I won’t try to kill him again. Well, not today, anyway. And not unless Aziraphale says so.” He sniffed.

Beelzebub glared at him. “Whipped, are we?”

“Are _we_?” Crowley echoed, eyebrows raised.

Beelzebub cracked their knuckles, an action they know that Crowley _hates_, and gave a small smirk. “Good idea. Think I’ll hold the whip though.”

Crowley groaned. “I didn’t need to know that.”

Beelzebub shrugged.

“Either way, you can relax. I’ll be on my best behaviour.” Crowley assured them.

“That’s not-” Beelzebub started, but cut themself off. “He can take care of himself. He’s an Archangel, for fucks sake. He could take you down in a- a heartbeat.” They shuddered, for some reason.

Now Crowley was confused, and ticked off. “Then why are you trying to keep us separated?”

Beelzebub just narrowed their eyes at him. “You can’t be trusted.”

“Can’t be-” Crowley paused. “I- I’m not going to kiss him again, if that’s what you’re worried about!”

Beelzebub said nothing.

“Who would want to kiss _that_?!” Crowley raged.

Beelzebub still said nothing, but glared at him again.

“Why would you think I would-?” He continued.

“You have a thing for Angels.” They replied, finally.

“ANGEL. One! One Angel. And his defining feature is how not Angelic he is.” Crowley corrected, folding his arms.

Beelzebub rolled their eyes, and just kept on walking.

“...it made you laugh, anyhow.” Crowley muttered.

“That’s because of how angry he was.” The corners of Beelzebub’s mouth drew up the tiniest of increments, despite themself. Crowley found it disturbingly creepy. He shuddered.

“Oh.” He said, before adding, “Weird kink, but ok. I can get behind it. I can make him angry again if you like?”

Beelzebub looked at him questioningly.

“I’m good at making people angry.” He promised. “I won’t even need to be near him.”

Beelzebub considered it. “...Do it.”

“You’re going to love it!” Crowley said enthusiastically, sauntering off to catch up with Aziraphale.

\--

“Gabriel?” Aziraphale questioned, looking round to see Crowley walking besides Beelzebub like old friends, an eyebrow raised.

The Archangel was walking beside him cheerfully.

“You have my sincerest gratitude for sharing your ..._food_... with my Beelz. They seemed to enjoy it!” Gabriel said happily. “I never would have thought to take them somewhere to ingest gross matter.”

Aziraphale smiled nervously. “Ha, yes, well,” he fidgeted with his hands, “You seem very happy- Look, Gabriel, you mentioned earlier there were Earth Surveillance Photographs? You’re not _still_ surveying are you? Because that is a massive breach of privacy, and I’m pretty sure it’s against Heavens GDPR terms-” He was babbling.

Gabriel patted his shoulder as they walked. “Aziraphale. Aziraphale! Stop. The Earth Surveillance Department, they, uh. Imploded.” He cleared his throat.

“What?” Aziraphale asked, shocked.

“Yup.” Gabriel answered. “Perfectly functional one day, and then BAM; all the Pictographers stopped functioning. The printers ran dry, permanently, and any screens still working have been moved to different departments.”

“But- but why?” Aziraphale said in disbelief.

Gabriel clicked his tongue. “Michael was getting too nosy.”

Aziraphale gawked at him.

“Oh close your mouth Aziraphale, it’s unseemly. You may not be completely an Angel anymore, but at least act like one.” Gabriel crossed his arms in a huff.

Aziraphale’s mouth snapped shut.

“Better. Now, at what part of a Human Date do they start fornicating?” Gabriel asked.

Aziraphale tripped over nothing at all, and righted himself.

“_I beg your pardon?!_” He wheezed.

“You have it.” Gabriel answered. “Now, at what part of a Human Date-”

“I heard you the first time, Gabriel.” Aziraphale straightened out his waistcoat. “I thought you were already fu- ...doing it.”

“Yes, but we want to do things the human way. Do they keep a desk specifically for the act in their domiciles, or do they go somewhere special?”

It took Aziraphale a few moments to comprehend what it was Gabriel was saying.

“A desk for _what_?” He asked, when he still didn’t understand.

“Fornication.” Gabriel replied, making that stupid face.

“Oh good lord.” Aziraphale withered. “Humans don’t used desks, Gabriel. They use beds!”

“Beds?” Gabriel made a face, again. He seemed to consider it. “Is there like a bed warehouse, or...?”

“For goodness sake, I should’ve drunk more Champagne. They have beds in their homes. And if that doesn’t work, then they go to hotels. Oh, there’s a thought; take Lord Beelzebub to a hotel. Rent an apartment, maybe. Anything other than whatever it is you’re currently doing!” Aziraphale snapped.

“Hm...” Gabriel looked thoughtful.

“Oh, and Gabriel?” Aziraphale said.

“Yes?”

“Please stop talking.”

\--

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s hand and pulled him through the gates of Berkley Square. Gabriel and Beelzebub trailed behind them, and stopped a few feet away, as Crowley turned to face him.

“Angel. Look. I wanted this to be a lot more romantic when I did it, and today hasn’t _exactly_ gone as planned. I especially didn’t want _those_ two here with us, but I just can’t wait anymore. I-” He dropped to one knee, fumbling around in his breast pocket, pulling out a velvet box.

Aziraphale’s hand flew to his mouth in delighted shock.

“Angel, I love you. Have done since the moment I set eyes on you. I’ve spent 6000 years watching you, standing beside you, loving you, and I can’t go one more day knowing you’re not my husband. Please, Aziraphale, will you marry me?” Crowley opened the box, revealing a ring.

Aziraphale filled with unbridled joy and disbelief at the coincidence. He jumped and actually squealed “Oh my god!” in shock, before fumbling around in his own coat jacket. He produced an identical velvet box, also opening it to reveal a ring.

They both burst out laughing.

Beside them, another Angel/Demon couple were having a different reaction.

\--

“Beelz, I know how we should end our date.” Gabriel spoke at them brightly. “Apparently humans use beds for our favourite activity. Let’s find one and try it out.”

“I don’t see the problem with desks....” Beelzebub grumbled.

In the corner of their eye, Crowley had gotten down on one knee. He opened a small box toward the Angel, who made an extremely irritating noise, and began radiating that same glow that Gabriel did when he was feeling exceptionally infatuated.

Beelzebub realised suddenly that this is what Crowley had meant by making Gabriel angry.

_This_ was his idea?! Proclaim eternal love to the Angel?!

As Aziraphale produced his own box towards the Demon, his glow burst from him, hitting Beelzebub like an intense wave of nausea.

\--

Beelzebub was staring daggers at the Demon Crowley behind him. Gabriel turned to see what the problem was, only to see the Demon on one knee. He thought perhaps he had dropped something.

Only, Aziraphale’s love was becoming apparent, like it hadn’t done in the restaurant earlier, and he was bouncing up and down squealing.

Had they not just had the conversation about acting like an Angel?!

Aziraphale pulled something from his pocket, and showed it to the Demon Crowley. Gabriel realised a beat too late what this was.

This was one of those Human things. A Proposal.

Gabriel slapped his hands over his eyes in disbelief. Even _he_ knew this isn’t how this was meant to go. What idiots!

Not to mention the fact that an Angel and a Demon were _proposing_ to each other!

The divine love that Aziraphale had done such a good job of hiding away slipped out of him, and Beelzebub fell to their hands and knees, clutching their mouth, wretching.

Alas. It was too big a display of affection for the Prince of Hell.

\--

Crowley and Aziraphale were on high returning to the bookshop. The Bentley had played ‘Good old fashioned Loverboy’ on repeat the entire journey, which Crowley took at a leisurely 50mph, just to enjoy the song some more. Aziraphale had even hummed along.

As they got out the car, Crowley turned to ask Aziraphale a question.

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes Crowley?” He beamed at him.

“Why are they still here?”

The pair of them looked to the extremely disgruntled looking Archangel and Demon Prince that had gotten out of the vehicle. Their dissatisfaction pleased Crowley to no end.

“Oh. You know, I hadn’t even noticed?” Aziraphale laughed in reply.

Crowley sniggered. “Oh I do love you Angel.”

“And I you, my dearheart.” Aziraphale took his hand and looked at him all gooey.

“We are _right_ here!” Gabriel sulked.

“And why is that again?” Crowley asked, too overjoyed for his sarcasm to properly manifest.

Gabriel didn’t answer. He just ground his shoe into the pavement.

“Crowley, we can write up that contract they agreed to, in the bookshop. The one that says we won’t be pursued by Heaven or Hell. They can sign it whilst they’re here.” Aziraphale said, smiling.

“Good idea, that. Come on then, let’s head in-” He replied, walking straight into the bookshops door.

It hadn’t opened.

“That’s never happened before.” He grumbled to himself, jiggling the doors handle. He snapped his fingers, and tried again. Still nothing.

Aziraphale tittered. “Oh dear, they’re in cahoots again; the bookshop, and the Bentley.” He said fondly. “It looks like we’ll have to get this done out here.”

He miracled up a piece of paper and clipboard, contract already written. Crowley took it from him, inspecting the legalese.

“...Neither Heaven nor Hell will call upon the Principality Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, nor the Demon Crowley, Serpent of Eden, for any reason, including without limitation, Armageddon, the Apocalypse, Global Destruction, blah blah blah, and in the event of a discorporation, will provide a new body, henceforth, without paperwork.” He muttered out loud to himself. “Looks good, Angel!”

Aziraphale smiled and signed his scrawl along one of four lines left blank on the page. It glowed with a white light before dimming.

Crowley did the same, his signature burning in flame.

The two looked towards Gabriel and Beelzebub expectantly, holding the clipboard out to them.

Gabriel just looked at it and scoffed. “You think today was enough to get me to sign that-?” He began, but Beelzebub reached out and signed it without hesitation.

“A deals a deal, Gabriel. Sign the blessed document.” They said, their moniker burning brightly before fizzing away.

Gabriel stalled. He looked at Beelzebub, and back to Aziraphale and Crowley, and down at the contract. He clicked his tongue in a tsk. “Fine. Fine! Pass me that damned contract,” he signed, his signature glowing a bright violet, “but this isn’t over.” He pointed at the betrothed couple in front of him.

Aziraphale chortled, Crowley putting his arm around his shoulders. “This contract means it is, Gabriel.” He turned to Crowley. “We’re free, Crowley!” He beamed.

Crowley slipped his hands around his waist and pulled him close. “That we are, Angel.” He turned to Gabriel and Beelzebub. “...are you still here?”

Beelzebub just rolled their eyes, and went to walk away, but a vein was popping on Gabriel’s forehead.

“Why you little-” He took a step towards the couple when Beelzebub grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Leave it, Archangel.” They ordered him.

“This wasn’t a fair deal.” He argued. “We were having a perfectly good day, until they ruined it by- by- being unholy and going against god!”

Beelzebub’s eyes went wide. “Being _unholy_?”

Hearing Gabriel say such things about Aziraphale rubbed Crowley up the wrong way, but his Angel held him tight. “I want to see where this goes.” He murmured, as if he were watching a soap opera. Crowley considered miracling in some popcorn.

“An Angel and a Demon proposing to each other is preposterous! It’s unnatural.” Gabriel was digging himself a hole, but just didn’t know it yet.

Beelzebub buzzed. “You’ve got a problem with that, do you?”

“I do!” Gabriel raged.

Aziraphale looked around, slightly worried. “I do fear that they’re disturbing the neighbours.”

“I’m on it, Angel. Had a diversion miracle running most of the day. I’m knackered.” Crowley assured him.

“You have issue with an Angel and a Demon being together?!” Beelzebub buzzed louder. It was making Crowley’s ears ring.

“Yes!” Gabriel replied.

“Then what the fuck is this?!” Beelzebub gestured between them.

Gabriel paused for a moment, and then scoffed. “Oh please, this isn’t to do with us. It’s to do with them!” He jabbed his finger towards Aziraphale and Crowley, who decided ‘_yes he will miracle that popcorn’_, and offered some to his Angel.

“You’re a fucking hypocrite, Gabriel.” Beelzebub swore.

“Oh I’m a hypocrite?” The Archangel retorted.

“Yes you fucking are.”

“Oh am I?”

“He might be stuck like this.” Crowley muttered to Aziraphale. “Should we turn him off and back on again?”

“I don’t understand that joke, and you know I don’t.” Aziraphale, who has never used a device that was connected to the internet, chided, chewing on an exploded kernel.

“You talk about wanting to do human things, you tell me you lo- lo- _love_ me, but you’re still so stuck up God’s ass you can smell _Her_ halitosis!”

Aziraphale gasped, and went to say something probably about Blasphemy, but Crowley shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth. He chewed obediently.

Instead, Gabriel gasped. “You can’t say that about the Almighty!”

“I can say what the fuck I like! I am Lord Beelzebub, Prince of _Demons, _and Prince of Hell_._ And when you, Archangel Fucking Gabriel, can accept that _She_ doesn’t care whether we, an Angel and a Demon, are together or not, you’ll know where to find me!” Beelzebub turned to walk off.

“You- you can’t just-” Gabriel began. “...Go fuck yourself!”

Beelzebub turned back and screamed at him in an unholy voice. “Fuck me yourself, you coward!”

Then they were gone.

Gabriel stood there dumbfounded for a bit, looking in the direction Beelzebub had popped away. A chilly wind blew by them.

Aziraphale cleared his throat, pulling Gabriel out of his stupor. He turned to face them, the red in his face replaced by a pink tinge to his cheeks. Crowley cringed.

“I think I’d better-” The Archangel pointed in the direction over his shoulder with his thumb.

“I think you better had.” Aziraphale agreed, adding, “Going to find a nice desk?”

“It has my name on it.” Gabriel nodded, and then he poofed away too.

“Desk??” Crowley asked confused.

“You don’t want to know.” Aziraphale assured him.

Crowley hummed. The Angel was right. He didn’t.

They retired to the now open bookshop to celebrate their engagement.

**Author's Note:**

> The proposal scene was inspired by [this fanart](https://twitter.com/am_brill0nart/status/1171519481442496513?s=20) by [@am_brill0nart](https://twitter.com/am_brill0nart) on Twitter. Take a look and tell them how amazing they are! I smile everytime I see it. This story was planned before I came across it, but it made a wonderful climax, complete with Gabriel and Beelzebub despairing in the background <3 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, as it fuels my creativity. Kudos are appreciated too :)
> 
> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/joseyxneko).  

> 
> ** Footnotes **
> 
> 1Which was fair enough. The last time they’d seen each other, Crowley deep-throated him with his tongue. See [Will Too Much Love Kill You?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20508440) for reference.[return to text]
> 
> 2The staff could see him clearly drinking it, and would come over with a refill, only to be confused when confronted with a full cup.[return to text]


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